


A Strange Way To Tell You That I Know We Belong

by littledaybreaker



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M, fluffy fluff fluff, hockey rpf has consumed my life, someone send help, uhhh...kinda d/s thing? kinda? i guess?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-06
Updated: 2015-04-06
Packaged: 2018-03-21 15:05:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3696836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littledaybreaker/pseuds/littledaybreaker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Jamie and Jason have post-game sex and feels and Jordie is vaguely annoyed and grossed out by it all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Strange Way To Tell You That I Know We Belong

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tragiclullaby](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tragiclullaby/gifts).



> SO this is a thing that is apparently happening now. I was inspired by [this](http://33.media.tumblr.com/51e5fcbca95232cf3cbf9ce9efa70e9a/tumblr_nm9eiu975U1qgszzio3_540.gif) gif, the intense look on Jamie's face when he sees Jason, and then by the way that Jordie and Jason were dressed similarly at the pizza party. Because clearly, these two things were related. 
> 
> Title and epigraph are both from "The Luckiest" by Ben Folds. This could serve as a companion piece to ["I Know You Know"](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3657516), or at least it takes place in the same canon. They can serve as standalones, though.

_In a white sea of eyes, I see one pair that I recognize and I know that I am, I am, I am the luckiest._  


~Ben Folds

  


Jason isn’t the fastest skater.

It’s not so noticeable during games. It’s downright infuriating, sometimes, during drills. But he tries hard and he never gives anything less than all he’s got, so it's hard to stay angry for long.

Jamie always has an eye on him on the ice. It’s easy enough for others to dismiss it. Just the captain looking out for one of his new players, and that’s part of it. He knows Jason’s propensity for playing whilst sick or injured. He knows that Jason is too damn stubborn to listen to anyone but his captain-turned-boyfriend when it comes to when to quit. But a bigger part of it is that Jamie loves him with an intensity that sometimes frightens even him--it’s only been four months, after all--and it makes him feel safe in some way to know where Jason is on the ice.

Jamie's eyes always hone in on Jason the instant he scores a goal. Even with the rest of the guys swarming him, beaming and patting his helmet, Jamie has one eye on the ice, watching for Jason. When Jason does make his way over, it’s just he and Jamie on the ice for the moment. They rarely speak, maybe a “woo!” or “good job!”, but they don’t have to. They’ve established a delicate nonverbal communication in the past four months, a hundred thousand ways to say  they love each other without saying a word.

“I’m bringing you home tonight,” Jamie all but growls. They’re the last two in the locker room, accidentally-on-purpose. Jason spends a little more time than necessary in the shower and Jamie spends a little more time than necessary on his hair and whoops, would you look at that, everyone else has gone home, guess it’s just you and I.

Sometimes they fuck right there in the locker room. Jamie pushes Jason up against the lockers or bends him over a bench. Sometimes they fuck in the showers, so when he cries out Jamie’s name it echoes off the walls. But tonight, Jamie has other plans.

It was a hell of a loss, a bust-up, even, and every cell in his body is radiating with tension from it. He’s wanted to fuck Jason since before the game was even over. From the second his eyes locked in on his after Jamie’s last goal, all Jamie has wanted is Jason on his hands and knees in his bed.

  


Jason fixes his big blue eyes on Jamie and nods. He knows what Jamie is trying to say, has wanted it as much as his captain has. “Take me home,” he says, and it’s enough to make Jamie’s cock twitch in his pants already. He pulls Jason tight against him and kisses him fiercely, pressing every inch of their bodies together, making sure that Jason can feel exactly how much Jamie wants him. Then he takes him by the hand and leads him out to the parking lot.

  


They don’t talk much on the way home, which is a blessed relief for Jamie. He’s pretty sure he would have had to pull over to the side of the road the second Jason said anything. Something about the slightest hint of a French accent and the way Jason constructs his sentences makes Jamie crazy on his best days. On a day like this he’s afraid it might be enough to push him over the edge. They make it home without incident and Jamie all but drags Jason through the door, shoving him up against the wall in the front hall. “I wanna fuck you til you can’t stand,” he tells him, and Jason moans, tilting his head back. “Yes, yes, fuck me, Captain. Fuck me til my legs stop working, fuck me until the only thing I remember is your name.” He gets filthy when he’s turned on, and at the moment it’s almost all too much for Jamie. He kisses him again, tugging his hair, and then takes him by the hand to lead him into the bedroom. He can hear the TV in Jordie’s room and knows there’s about a 50-50 chance that his brother is still awake. He decides to risk it, knows there’s no way they’ll be able to sit around making small talk until Jordie goes to sleep. “You have to be quiet,” Jamie hisses, and Jason nods.

“I’ll be good, I’ll be good,” he babbles, and Jamie shuts him up with a kiss, throwing him on the bed. This provokes another moan from Jason--for someone who is never afraid to use his brute strength on the ice, he’s always willing to let Jamie put him in his place in their personal life. Jamie likes it--likes feeling like he’s in control, likes knowing that Jason will give himself over so completely to Jamie. He can’t explain it--doesn’t try to--but it feels more like love than anything else he’s ever experienced.

“I love you,” Jamie says, pressing a kiss to Jason’s shoulder blade.

“I love you.” It provokes a shiver in Jamie every time Jason says it. It’s still new--Jamie said it by accident as they were leaving practice one day a couple of weeks ago. He regretted it almost immediately. It was too soon, it would freak Jason out, he’d just screwed it up. But Jason had responded by turning and rushing back to Jamie, engulfing him in a hug, saying “I love you I love you I love you,” against his neck.

They aren’t “out” in the strictest sense of the word. Most of the team knows, either from the Christmas party or just from the fact that they’re not terribly subtle and sometimes Jamie touches Jason’s butt when he thinks nobody is looking. But they’ve never said anything to anyone. If they wonder, let them wonder. What they have is too important to let anything stand in the way of it.

All that is not currently the point, though. The point, right now, is Jason on his hands and knees on the bed, ass in the air, looking so fucking inviting. Jamie comes up behind him and kisses the base of his spine, teasing. Jason whimpers, knowing full well what’s coming next. Jamie undresses him slowly, drawing it out, revelling in the way it makes Jason crazy. Once Jamie has Jason undressed, he works on his own clothes. He's working a little faster now, spurred by desire. Once they’re both naked, he kneels behind Jason, kissing his spine again teasingly before spreading Jason’s ass and all but diving in.

He’d never thought about doing this before Jason, but now he can’t get enough. He draws his tongue over Jason’s hole, provoking a sharp little cry. Jamie is dimly aware that they’re supposed to be being quiet, and he shushes Jason without looking up. Jason moans again, and Jamie swirls his tongue in such a way that it causes Jason to grip the sheets, dropping forward on his elbows. “Fuck, fuck, Jamie, baby, your tongue, fuck me with your tongue, oh please.” He’s almost begging, and Jamie pulls back with a smirk, just long enough to catch his breath before diving back in. He doesn’t tease, giving Jason what he wants, and Jason responds with a cry, pushing back against Jamie’s mouth. Jason has his hands clenched in the sheets, knuckles white from the effort, and Jamie knows he’s trying his hardest not to reach between his legs and jerk himself off. Jamie pulls away, wipes his mouth, and leans in to say, “Good boy, that’s a good boy, you don’t get to touch yourself until your captain says so,” into Jason’s ear. Jason whines, and Jamie makes quick work of finding the lube, slicking two fingers and pushing them inside of Jason, stretching him out, letting them drag over his prostate. Jason lets out a sob, and Jamie murmurs more praise, reminding him what a good boy he is for holding on for his captain, withdrawing his fingers, slicking his cock and pressing it in before Jason even has time to register that Jamie isn't fucking him anymore.

As soon as Jamie is inside of him, Jason cries out, pushing back against him, his hips rolling. Jamie groans, pulling Jason’s hips against his own, letting them fall into a hard and fast rhythm, just what they both need. Jason is whimpering Jamie’s name with every thrust and Jamie can already feel his balls tightening. He takes a deep breath--having sex with Jason is a constant lesson in composure. He knows exactly the right angle to hit Jason’s prostate every time he thrusts, and he knows Jason is almost as big a mess as he is, his face pressed against the mattress, sobbing, “Please, please captain, please let me touch myself, please, I’m a good boy, I’m a good boy!” Jamie pulls him up with a hand in his hair. “You’re a good boy,” he agrees, “and because you’re such a good boy…” trailing off, he uses the hand that isn’t in Jason’s hair to wrap around his cock, jerking him off with long, firm strokes. It doesn’t take long before Jason is coming, crying Jamie’s name desperately, hips rolling back against Jamie’s, his ass tightening impossibly around Jamie’s cock.

Jason collapses against the bed, breathless, and it’s a good twenty seconds before he speaks. “I want you to come on me,” he says, and Jason doesn't have to tell Jamie twice. He pulls out and jerks firmly, one, two, three, four strokes before he comes with a grunt, his whole body trembling with the force. He collapses on the bed next to Jason for a moment, breathing hard, chuckling, and then kisses Jason’s shoulder before rising to head into the bathroom and get a warm washcloth and to rinse his mouth so he can kiss his boyfriend properly. When he returns, Jason is still basically boneless on the bed, his head resting on Jamie’s pillow, eyes half open, smiling. Jamie beams at him, leaning over to kiss him on the mouth, long and slow. “Let’s get you cleaned up,” he says. He loves this part, running the warm washcloth over Jason’s body, letting him relax even more. Sometimes Jason falls asleep during this part, and those are Jamie’s favourite nights--not just because he looks so sweet, but because it means they get to spend the night together.

Tonight is one of those nights--Jason is asleep, snoring softly, before Jamie is even fully done washing him. He tosses the washcloth on top of the dirty laundry pile and climbs into bed next to Jason, pulling him close, letting his deep breathing lull him to sleep.

  


“Ugh, you idiot, wake the fuck up.” Jordie is standing at the end of the bed the next morning, arms folded across his chest. “We’ve got that thing to go to.”

Jamie rolls over, throwing a protective arm around Jason. “Go ‘way, Jordie,” he mumbles. Jason, still asleep, curls a little closer to Jamie, sighing in his sleep, and Jamie kisses the top of his head.

“You’re gross. Jase and I have to do that pizza party thing and if he doesn’t wake up we’re gonna be late.”

Jason opens his eyes, rolling over. “Aw, shit. I forgot.”

Jordie rolls his eyes. “Get in the shower, I’ll lend you some clothes or something.”

Jason kisses Jamie’s chin, and Jamie smiles sleepily. “Love you,” he mumbles.

“Love you,” Jason replies, then rolls out of bed. “I’ll come back after.”

“Mm-hm, ok,” Jamie says, already asleep again.

  


Jordie catches Jason on his way out of the bathroom, tosses some clothes from the clean pile at him. “Here,” he says. “Wear these, they should fit you fine. And Jase?”

“Hm.” Jason takes the clothes, heads back toward the bathroom. “What?”

“You gotta learn to be quiet, dude. I really don’t need to be thinking about what my brother’s tongue does to you, okay?”


End file.
